Caught Painting a Dotted Line
by inkfiction
Summary: Regina is pregnant. Henry eats the turnover. And there is angst, and forgiveness is not really on the horizon right away. Or something like that. I've never written a worse summary in my life. Spoilers till 1.21.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Caught Painting a Dotted Line… (1/?)  
**Fandom:** Once Upon a Time  
**Pairing:** Swan Queen (Emma Swan/Regina Mills)  
**Spoiler/Warning:** Up till 1.21 – An Apple Red as Blood. Canon till 1.21 with slight AU happenings, veers off canon after 1.21.  
**Summary:** Regina is pregnant. And there is angst, and forgiveness is not really on the horizon right away. Or something like that. I've never written a worse summary in my life.  
**Disclaimer:** This is purely fictional. I own none of it.

[…]

_A/N: I don't even know what this fic is, I dreamt it. No, not kidding, I literally dreamt it and woke up with it half-written in my head and said to myself 'what a story it'd make if Regina was pregnant when Henry ate the turnover and there was a plotline steeped in oodles of angst and anger'. So here it is. Feedback would be appreciated. Title from the song 'Moving Pictures, Silent Films' by Great Lake Swimmers. And these lyrics seem strangely relevant:_

_I took it for love  
Or at least something beautiful  
Out there in the spotlight  
But I turned around suddenly  
Turned around squinting  
And saw that it was headlights_

_And then the truth, the truth was unbearable  
Oh, and imminent  
Bearing down on these two shadow animals_

_Caught painting a dotted line…_

[…]

Regina's first mistake was allowing Emma Swan to stay in the town.

Her second mistake was failing to control her own feelings and urges where Emma Swan was concerned.

Her third mistake was giving in to said urges and sleeping with Emma Swan one dark night which was promptly forgotten and ignored the next day by the both of them.

Her fourth, final and biggest mistake was baking that apple turnover in a fit of rage, handing it to Emma Swan and not making sure that her son stayed home, safe and away from the damnable woman as she prepared to leave town, and consequently away from that cursed turnover. If she had done that, this wouldn't have happened.

The queasiness she had been feeling for the past few weeks returned full force as she watched the doctors pump her son's little chest. He was so small and it seemed so fragile, she was afraid they might break a rib or two. She felt her own heart stop with every beep that the machine skipped. She could feel pain begin to spread in her body from somewhere deep in her stomach but she disregarded it, her breath stuck in her throat as she tried to come to terms with the fact that once again she had destroyed what little chance she had left at a happy ending. This time she had no one to blame but herself. The weight of the realization crushed her inside out.

And then Regina felt a hand grab at her elbow and turn her around forcefully. Sudden nausea and dizziness gripped her as she clawed at the wall behind her to try and steady herself. Emma's face ebbed in and out of focus for a moment and her furious voice seemed to be coming through a tunnel.

"What the hell did you put in that fucking turnover, you fucking bitch!"

Regina recovered a little only to find Emma's face inches from her own, eyes burning with fury, and the hospital staff and patients staring at the two of them. Emma must have noticed them too, because she grabbed Regina's arm and banged open the door to the nearest storage closet, pushing Regina inside the room and into the metal rack full of spare hospital supplies. NG tubes and disposable syringes rained down on to the floor.

Regina felt a tug deep behind her navel as the dull pain increased tenfold in intensity and spread out deep in her abdomen, making her legs shake and her head dizzy. She could hardly make out the words of Emma's furious diatribe, except for the last ones which rang in the room and seemed to resonate in her whole being.

"If he dies, so do you!"

Regina wanted to laugh at that, she wanted to shout at the other woman; she wanted to say, "Do you think I'd _want_ to live if he dies?" But she didn't.

The dizziness increased and the pain seemed to spread, growing more intense as Regina made herself walk out of that room behind Emma, straight-backed, matching the other woman's quick step even though the edges of the world were fuzzy and getting fuzzier still with each passing moment.

The next hour was a blur of old memories, newer regrets and Emma's harsh voice, the weakening beep of her son's heartbeat, the talk of curses, and of breaking them. Emma's disbelief and shock, Emma's tears, Emma clutching at straws, ready to do anything, believe anything to save Henry's life. And pain. Oh, the pain! The pain in Regina's heart, the pounding in her head. The knife-edged pain in her abdomen increasing every second. But her son was dying, she could manage to ignore this pain.

And then it was too late. The savior's sword and the witch's magic could not do anything. The harsh, staccato beeps rose to a frenzied rhythm before stopping altogether. Regina heard the machine flat-line. She heard Emma sob, and bend over Henry's still form and kiss his bloodless, white cheek again and again.

"Henry! I love you, Henry!"

Regina forgot the pain that had been threatening to take over for the past hour as her reality seemed to break down around her. She rushed forward, her hands covered Emma's cold fingers as she cupped Henry's face with the last bit of strength she had left in her. Her head bumped into Emma's as she bent down to place her lips on her son's icy forehead. Tears fell down and were absorbed in his dark, matted hair.

Once again she had failed.

She felt darkness gathering in front of her as her strength gave away. The last thing Regina heard before her vision went black was her own voice sobbing out her son's name and the frantic but steady beep of the EKG machine. The last thing she saw was Henry's green, confusion-filled eyes before she slid down to the cold, tiled floor into a pool of something dark red and sticky.

[...]

For Emma the world seemed to have ended the moment the bright green spikes on the little screen morphed into a straight line. In a daze, she heard herself sobbing, and kissing her dead son again and again, telling him over and over that she loved him, wishing he could hear her finally saying it.

She felt rather than saw Regina's wordless shout, Regina rushing into the room, face as pale as Henry's lifeless one. She felt Regina's fingers cover her own as the other woman cupped Henry's face in her hands. She felt her head bump against Regina's as they both bent down to kiss their son. She felt Regina's tears drip down and disappear into his hair, and she felt her heart split open with grief.

And then Henry opened his eyes, and Regina's grip on her fingers was loosened, and then it was gone. The EKG machine beeped back into life, filling the room with steady, frantic heartbeats. Emma saw the color being pumped back into Henry's pale cheeks, and she heard herself laugh as she bodily picked up her son and crushed him to herself.

It was a while before she was ready to let him go a little to look at his face. He seemed fine and in control of all his senses.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, you hear me!"

She saw him nod, and hold on to her and it was only when she held him tightly again, her lips coming in contact with the salty wetness of Regina's tears in his hair that Emma realized Regina had slumped down to the floor and never gotten back up.

"Hold up, kid," she reluctantly parted with Henry, laying him back down gently like she was afraid he might break or fall down again, and rushed around to the other side of the bed only to stop in her tracks halfway and grip the frame of the bed to steady herself as she stared in shock at the sight in front of her eyes. Regina lay in a pool of blood, her face drained of any color, as deathly white as the marble tiles that she lay upon.

Emma felt the panic that had just subsided a few moments ago claw its way back up her chest.

"What is it, Emma?" Henry's voice made her snap out of her shocked silence.

Her hurried, 'Don't look down, kid!' went unheeded as he sat up and peered down from the bed and gasped, his eyes widening.

"Did you kill her? Did you kill the Evil Queen?"

"Oh, Henry, don't be ridiculous," Emma said, her voice wavering a little as she rushed forward, kneeling down and gathering the unconscious woman in her arms. "She just — I dunno — collapsed." She didn't add _'just as you woke up',_ afraid that might exactly be the reason. This whole magic and curse-breaking thing was new to her, she didn't know if it was a side-effect or not of the so-called magic that Regina was like this right now.

Regina's skin was damp and ice-cold as Emma tried to feel for a pulse on her neck. She found one, thready and weak, but it was there. Relief, immense and almost dizzying in its intensity, flooded her whole being.

"She is alive," she said.

"But why is there so much blood?" She heard the slight note of panic in Henry's voice and it made her look up and take stock.

"Kid, I have no idea. Keep an eye on her, let me call Dr. Whale, okay?"

He nodded, eyes wide with fear, as she lay the mayor down gently, unconsciously reaching out to brush back a lock of dark hair plastered to the damp, cold forehead, and ran out to call the doctors.

[...]

They rushed her to the nearest OR right away. Henry was shifted into a smaller room, already drowsy from the all the medication that had been pumped into his bloodstream earlier.

"Will she be okay?" he asked her, voice small, almost scared.

"I hope so," said Emma. _God, I hope so._

"I know she is the Evil Queen, but I don't like seeing her like this," he said, gripping her hand.

"I know, kid," Emma said, smoothing back his hair and planting a kiss on his forehead. "I know, neither do I."

She sat with him until he fell into a deep sleep. The rest of the hour Emma spent pacing the little room, her feelings swiveling between rage at the scheming woman and worry at her state, not entirely sure why, and alternately holding Henry's hand because she still couldn't believe he was alive and safe. Finally there was a knock on the door and Dr. Whale entered the room, his face grave. She felt her heart sink.

"How's she?" she said, standing up to talk to him.

"She's not out of danger yet. She lost a lot of blood."

"But what happened to her?"

"I believe the stress of Henry's taking ill, and all the running about was too much for her in her condition."

"What do you mean 'her condition'?"

"Oh, I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"She's pregnant."

[...]


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Caught Painting a Dotted Line… (2/?)  
**Fandom:** Once Upon a Time  
**Pairing:** Swan Queen (Emma Swan/Regina Mills)  
**Spoiler/Warning:** Up till 1.21 – An Apple Red as Blood. Canon till 1.21 with slight AU happenings, veers off canon after 1.21.  
**Summary:** Regina is pregnant. Henry eats the turnover. And there is angst, and forgiveness is not really on the horizon right away. Or something like that. I've never written a worse summary in my life.  
**Disclaimer:** This is purely fictional. I own none of it.

[…]

_A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews, faves and story alerts. You make me very happy. Here's the second chapter. It took a while because, really, pregnancy is a little hard to write about and it's been more than two years since my compulsory two-week long rotation in the ob-gyn ward (all dentists go through that) so I had a little digging to do. As usual your feedback will be very much appreciated._

[…]

"She's _what?"_ Emma was glad she didn't have a cup of coffee or a soda with her because she would've spat it out.

"Pregnant. With child. She is going to have a baby."

"I know what pregnant means, Dr. Whale — _seriously?"_

"We're 100% sure."

"And there's no chance you could be wrong."

"None whatsoever."

Emma bit her lip. "How can she be pregnant?"

"I'm sure I don't need to explain _that_ to you, Sheriff." He awarded her with his town-famous leer.

"Uh, no, thank you, Doctor. So is the baby okay? She hasn't—" Emma couldn't bring herself to say _miscarried_. "Has she?"

"Oh, no, thank the Lord. She lost a large quantity of blood and it was a very close call but we were in time to save the baby. Although—"

"What?"

"The question whether the mother and the baby will survive the night remains. There is only so much we can do."

With a sickening, lurching feeling in her heart, Emma remembered how she had roughly shoved Regina around just a few hours ago. "I — but, there must be something—"

He shook his head. "Sheriff, we've done all we can without endangering the baby. The prognosis is very much uncertain right now."

How easy it was for him to say that in his formal, overbearing tone. Emma felt like punching him, but she knew it wasn't just Dr. Whale's pompousness that was the problem. Something deep inside her stung very hard that Regina was pregnant. It must be the slowly unraveling curse or the fact that Regina was the Evil Queen, she told herself but that explanation seemed unsatisfactory even to her own ears. She hadn't seen the mayor with anyone else since their night together almost two months ago. She could not even imagine who the father might be. She supposed she might have to find out and inform him now that the life of his child and his — _girlfriend_ were in danger.

"How — how far along is she?" she asked him.

"It's hard to say with absolute certainty but I would hazard a guess at two months at most, possibly less."

Emma stared at the back of his white coat as he moved forward to check on Henry.

"Henry seems to be doing fine," he went on. "If he's just as stable in the morning, you can take him home tomorrow."

'Home' jolted Emma out of her state of shock. Up until now the kid's home had been the mayoral mansion but there was no way in hell she was letting him ever go back there to live with Regina! Not now, not when she knew the true evil that lurked beneath the calm, cool mayor's facade. She would kidnap him and spend the next decade of her life running from state to state if she had to, but her son was never going back there, or anywhere without her for that matter. Besides, Regina was in no fit state to be a parent right now and Henry needed to be cared for.

But Dr. Whale was still talking. "Since Mayor Mills has no one else here listed as her next of kin who might be informed, and you are her son's mother, in addition to being the town sheriff, so I'll be making sure you get hourly updates — plus any paperwork that might arise."

"I — I don't think—" Emma began and then sighed resignedly. "Okay."

Dr. Whale nodded and left.

It seemed like the longest night Emma Swan had ever spent — cramped in the uncomfortable hospital chair, gazing at her son's face, or pacing the small length of his hospital room, waiting on a woman to wake up, a woman who was her enemy, who was everyone's enemy, who had allegedly stolen hundreds of people's happy endings, who had plotted against her, had just tried to poison her, who had, not hours ago, almost killed her son. Not to mention everything else she had done in her previous life, the life Emma still had trouble imagining.

Emma wasn't a religious person but that night during those moments between sitting stiff and pacing frantically, during the agonizing intervals between the hourly updates, she found a small part of her heart praying to whatever God there may be to not let anything drastic happen.

It was around four in the morning when Dr. Whale burst into the room just as she had been about to nod off in her uncomfortable chair; she almost had a heart attack when he shook her awake. Looking at him, her eyes widened and she hurriedly stood up.

"Is she—?"

"She's better," he said, and Emma let out a relieved breath which seemed to have been stuck somewhere in her lungs.

"She hasn't woken up yet, but her condition isn't critical anymore. We'll know more by the morning, but now there's a strong chance she's going to make it."

"And the baby?"

"The baby is going to be fine."

"Thank you so much, doctor."

He left and Emma sank down into the chair. It was the most damnable piece of furniture she had ever encountered — and that was saying something! All and any positions were darned uncomfortable, but Emma sank down, relieved, exhausted, and slept soundly for the next four hours.

[...]

Darkness was all around her once again. Is this what death looked like? Everything seemed repressed like there was a cloud of fog in her mind. And then the fog thinned a little, was pierced by the slow but steady beep of a machine. She tried to open her eyes but they seemed to be glued together. She tried to move her hands but it was like she was made of stone. She tried to speak but her throat refused to obey, her lips refused to part. She felt a surge of panic grip her as she tried with all her might to open her eyes, to move a little, even an inch. The beeping became uneven as she felt herself sinking back into velvety blackness.

The next time she became a little conscious, the fog in her mind seemed a little clearer and the blackness had dimmed to an orange-red glow beyond her eyelids. This time the effort she put into forcing them open paid off, and she opened her eyes to find a woman's face looming over her. There was a glimpse of a nurse's uniform and then she was gone.

For a few minutes Regina couldn't figure out where she was and what she was doing there; the pristine white walls, the stiff pillow beneath her head, the scratchy bed sheet were all alien to her. Her head hurt, in fact her whole body hurt, and there was a bitter taste in her mouth. And then she heard the beeping of the machines around her, the faint static of the PA system and it all came crashing back. Henry! She struggled to get up just as Dr. Whale came barreling through the door, followed on his heels by the same nurse as before.

"Mayor Mills!" he said, slightly out of breath from his swift walking. "Good to see you're up!"

"Dr. Whale — my son —"

"Henry is fine now," he said and Regina felt relief course through her veins, making her slump back onto the pillow. Henry was fine, all was well.

"In fact," Dr. Whale continued, "he will most likely be discharged later today. I already told Sheriff Swan to make the preparations—"

"What?" Regina felt the bitter taste in her mouth increase tenfold. "How _dare_ you! He's _my_ son, she can't — I need to see him—"

She tried to throw back the hospital issue blanket and get up but Dr. Whale was upon her in an instant, pushing her back down.

"If you value your life, Madam Mayor, I suggest you lie back down immediately! Doctor's orders!"

"I'm fine!" Regina tried to snap, but she sounded weak even to her own ears. She was already feeling very dizzy from the effort it took her to move her head. She could not find the strength to stave off Dr. Whale's gentle but firm hold on her shoulder. "I need to see my son, please, doctor," she said, ceasing her struggle to get up.

"I will tell him to come see you," he said and Regina felt her heart sink.

"No, you don't understand, he won't—"

"Mayor, please," he said and Regina subsided a little. The man might be a lecherous douche in all other walks of life but he had never yet compromised in his professional duties.

"You have to let me…" she half-pleaded.

"No chance," he said, checking her vital signs on the monitor. "In fact I'm strongly inclined to put you on complete bed rest for the next two to three months, if not for the whole remaining seven months! Do you have any idea how much blood you lost—"

"_What_ did you say? _Seven months?"_

"—jeopardizing your life, and your baby's—"

"Dr. Whale!" Regina's voice, though weakened, still possessed the commanding tone that made the man shut up at once, stethoscope raised in one hand, and peer at her. "Are you high, or have you simply lost your mind? Or are you trying to pull some kind of a prank on me? Let me remind you that the first of April is long past!"

"I beg your pardon," he looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"What are _you_ talking about?" Again that imperial tone. "What baby?"

Dr. Whale looked dumbstruck.

"Surely you knew, Madam Mayor, that you are pregnant."

"What utter nonsense is this?" Regina would have laughed if the idea hadn't been so completely preposterous. Instead she opted to scoff loudly which in turn brought on a coughing spasm which shook her whole body. "I'm not pregnant!" She said when the coughing had subsided and the nurse had given her a drink of water.

"I'm sorry to contradict you — but you _are_ pregnant."

"This is ridiculous, Dr. Whale!"

"You mean you didn't know you were pregnant?" His eyebrows climbed up. "Two months is early days yet, I suppose, but surely, Madam Mayor, you must have noticed the signs and changes in the past weeks? Hasn't there been amenorrhea? When was the last time you had your period? Has there been nausea? Any morning sickness? Headaches or backaches? Sore breasts? Fatigue, mood swings?" He rattled symptoms off one by one.

Regina's argument suddenly lost conviction. Oh, she had noticed most of these things, if not all of them. She just never could have imagined that they could be related to pregnancy. She had had a lot on her plate in the last few weeks, and the last time she checked, you ought to have a _father_ if you were to have a baby!

Dr. Whale snickered as he watched her go quiet as if he was reading her mind. "Guess one can never be sure about the protection one used, _if_ you used any…"

One glare was enough to make him trail off.

That was exactly the point, the last time Regina had sex with a man was three and a half months ago with Graham. There hadn't been anyone else since then, unless she counted … but no, she wasn't going to think about that night and the damnable Sheriff Swan.

"I cannot be pregnant," she said, her voice low enough to be a whisper.

"We have all the test results right here, Madam Mayor. Your Progesterone levels are sky high, which might not have meant anything by themselves but your β-hCG results are through the roof. That's a very sensitive test, mind you, and the results strongly fall into the range of the two month mark," he went on. "And if you need even more proof, I'll have Nurse Hanson bring in your file from the nurses' counter, it has all the ultrasound reports. You've got one helluva strong fetus, I must say! The risks of miscarriage through the first trimester are maximum, you know, and not many two month old fetuses survive such strain and severe blood loss."

A two month old fetus.

He looked right at her. "It's a miracle you didn't miscarry. It's almost like — magic."

Magic. The word rang in her ears.

Magic.

It couldn't be!

[...]

_A/N: β-hCG — the __β-subunit of human Chorionic Gonadotropin. It is the standard pregnancy test (here, at least, I don't know about elsewhere) and can be used to confirm pregnancy as early as the initial fifteen days. Not to be too technical here, but higher levels of __β-hCG are present only in pregnant females right after implantation and continue to surge through the second trimester, decreasing afterwards. TMI, I know, sorry. xD_


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Caught Painting a Dotted Line… (3/?)  
**Fandom:** Once Upon a Time  
**Pairing:** Swan Queen (Emma Swan/Regina Mills)  
**Spoiler/Warning:** Up till 1.21 – An Apple Red as Blood. Canon till 1.21 with slight AU happenings, veers off canon after 1.21.  
**Summary:** Regina is pregnant. Henry eats the turnover. And there is angst, and forgiveness is not really on the horizon right away. Or something like that. I've never written a worse summary in my life.  
**Disclaimer:** This is purely fictional. I own none of it.

[…]

_A/N: I am so sorry for this very late update. I was rather stuck on this chapter. Actually, I was very much stuck. I'm still not satisfied with a lot of things in it but I don't see it going anywhere if I spend more time staring at the screen and willing. So here it is. __Thank you to all of you who read and liked the previous chapters. I really hope you like this one, too._ Feedback will be appreciated.

[…]

Regina's mind raced as she connected the dots but something inside her refused to accept it. What were the chances that the little bit of magic that she had left, and the unique power that only Emma — albeit unaware at that time — possessed had combined in some way to make this happen? No, magical babies were tricky, and did not just _happen_. Even Rumplestiltskin with all his dark power could not have made this happen. A baby was something too pure, too good to be made so idly.

For magical babies you needed more than just magic, you needed goodness, strength, power, and — most important of all — you needed _love_, and any way she reviewed it, her relationship — if it was even to be called that — with the Sheriff was anything but, even if considered in the most fairest of lights. Love didn't fit the bill. Did it?

That this _happened_ must mean there was something there, even though the concept was one she wasn't very eager to visit. A baby with Emma Swan was the last thing she would have considered. Ever. Sharing one son with her was more than she could handle. Would the woman even believe if she told her what had happened? That she was having her baby?

Did that mean Emma was — no, True Love didn't just sell in the market wholesale, so that you could go and buy one when you wanted. Her True Love had been, will always be Daniel, and he was long gone.

But then a slight feeling of heaviness in her abdomen brought her thoughts back to the baby. A baby. _Her_ baby. She was going to have a baby. A tiny, little human being. She felt the warm tears trickle out of her eyes and into the hair at her temple.

"Madam Mayor?" Dr. Whale's voice jolted her out of her reverie.

"Yes," she said, her voice a little hoarse with emotion.

"I trust you have listened to all my instructions? They are very important to ensure your health and the baby's."

She nodded, her mind still too preoccupied to say anything.

"I'll ask Nurse Hanson to keep checking on you."

That rankled a little. "That won't be necessary."

"I'm sure it won't, but better to be safe than sorry."

"Dr. Whale," she stopped him as he started to move towards the door. He looked at her questioningly.

"Henry—?"

"I'll make sure he comes to see you as soon as he wakes up, don't you worry."

She swallowed and nodded. He went out and she was left with Nurse Hanson who fussed over her blanket and her IV before leaving, closing the door behind her, and Regina was left alone.

She waited, her eyes fixed on the clock on the wall, counting every second, refusing to sleep. An hour passed, and then another. Her heart grew heavier and heavier with every second, sure that Henry had refused to come see her, that he hated her even more. What if he never wanted to see her ever again? What if Emma had taken him and was halfway across the continent by now? What if he had fallen asleep and wasn't waking up ever again? The thought jolted her out of the half-stupor she had receded into while staring at the ticking clock and imagining scenarios in her head.

This wouldn't do! She couldn't sit here like this, agonizing over the worst case scenarios. She had to go see her son, if only to put her mind at ease. She had to know he was okay, and hearing it wasn't enough, she had to go see with her own eyes. Dr. Whale would understand, and even if he didn't, what did he know about mothers with children, anyway?

First she pulled out the IV, and then, one by one, she took off the oximeter and all the other things that were monitoring her body. And then she made herself sit up even though her whole body screamed with pain, her legs tangled in the drab hospital gown they had given her, refusing to budge but somehow she managed to move a little at a time. She stood up and for a moment the world seemed to tilt dangerously around her as her vision darkened, but she grabbed the bed to steady herself. And then she made herself walk, step by slow, agonizing step, to the door.

She opened it and peeked outside to find the nurse snoozing at the Nurses' Counter, and an empty corridor. Thanking the heavens above, she slowly trudged her way out of her room and up the corridor, peering into rooms along the way to look for her son as she went, resolutely ignoring the spikes of pain that were beginning to grow sharper and sharper at every step.

But it became harder as she went on. She could feel a coldness creep up her limbs as their strength ebbed, cold sweat forming on her body. She felt light-headed, and the pain threatened to take over at every step. Halfway through, it became too much. Her hand, gripping the ice-cold white wall, began to shake and slip. She wasn't sure if she would be able to make it to another step or not.

[...]

Emma was coming back from the vending machines when she saw ahead of her a very familiar head of dark hair above a very unflattering hospital gown, and a hand clutching at the wall of the hallway. Even from this distance she could see the legs trembling. Emma hissed in annoyance, discarding her half-finished coffee into the nearest trash can and rushing forward.

"What are you doing out here, Regina?"

Emma grabbed her elbow when she reached her, turning her around and scowling.

It took Emma a moment to take in the mayor's appearance. There were bags under her eyes and her usually glowing olive skin was close to chalky white. Sweat beaded her forehead and her upper lip. Her teeth were clenched with the effort of standing upright, lips peeled back, her breathing labored and shallow as she clutched at the wall with a shaking hand, trying to hold herself up on her shaky legs. Emma could feel her leaning into her support.

"Where do you think you're going? You're supposed to be in bed! Resting!"

"I need to see Henry." Each word was spoken with a great deal of effort from between a tightly clenched jaw.

Emma glared at her. "Do you think that's the best idea?"

"Please, Emma," a pleading note entered her voice. "I just need to see him." Her hand gave away and she started to slip down.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!"

And Emma reached out and picked her up with surprising ease, one hand under her knees, the other wrapped around her shoulder.

"No!" Regina struggled to get back down. "No, please. I need to see Henry. Please. Emma."

"Lady, either you are delirious or very much drugged because you just called me Emma. Twice."

"Let me down!" said Regina, bunching up Emma's leather jacket in fists, punching her and failing to cause any harm at all with her weak blows.

"Oh, do be quiet, Madam Mayor — or should I say 'your Majesty'?"

That effectively shut Regina up. Emma traipsed up the length of the corridor towards Henry's room, expertly nudged the door open with her hip, and deposited Regina on the chair that lay beside the bed. Henry hadn't woken up yet. His pale, thin, slumbering form was all Regina had eyes for. She tried to get up again, to touch him but the pressure of Emma's hand on her shoulder made her sit back down.

"Don't push it," said Emma but then she found two tear-filled brown eyes gazing up at her and she sighed. "Fine, wait a sec, okay?" She pushed the chair forward so that Regina could be nearer Henry. "You will not get up from this chair until I'm back, okay?"

Regina absently nodded, eyes still fixed on Henry, hands smoothing hair back from his forehead.

"I'll go get a wheelchair for you. Try not to turn him into a toad or something while I'm gone."

"You're not remotely funny, Miss Swan."

"You should be thanking God, _your Majesty_, that I'm making _jokes_ about it, and that's the only thing I'm doing!"

For a moment the seething fury Emma had managed to suppress in the pit of her stomach since last night bubbled to the top, making her voice shake a little. She took a deep breath to calm herself as Regina bit her lip, looking down, fists clenched.

"I'll be right back," said Emma, voice controlled, before turning and leaving the room.

[...]

"You should be getting back to your own room."

Emma's voice made Regina look up and realize that more than half an hour had passed.

"I just got here," Regina said.

"You are in no condition for sitting bedside vigils," Emma told her.

"Just a little while more."

"I'll bring him over when he wakes up."

"Will you?" Regina said. It wasn't a question.

Emma sighed.

"Regina, don't make me carry you again, because I _will_, if you don't get into that wheel chair right now."

"You're — Dr. Whale said you're taking him away today." Regina looked at her questioningly.

"Yes, I am."

The finality in Emma's voice made words like _'don't'_ and _'you can't'_ die on her tongue before she could speak them out loud. This was one battle she would lose, she realized, because she was in no condition to fight it. "Where—?" was all she could manage.

"Mary Margaret's. For now, at least."

"You can't—"

"You're in no position —" Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "He needs someone to take care of him, and you can't do that right now."

"You won't leave Storybrooke?" And that wasn't a question, either. It sounded more like a request.

"I can't, can I?" Emma snapped, her patience wavering thin. "There's work to do, curses to break. Now get into that chair." The last bit was said with much greater force than before.

"I — all right," Regina finally admitted defeat, but it was partly because she was suddenly feeling very, very tired, and slightly dizzy — and partly because Emma's immediate presence, her arguments, her judgments were making her feel weak and empty. Her worlds were colliding and falling apart and there was nothing she could do, and even if there was, she was in no fit state to do it.

She kissed Henry's forehead one last time. Emma helped her get into the wheel chair and began to wheel her out. They made their way across the corridor quietly, Emma with her angry silence, Regina deep in thought. Emma seemed to be coping with the concepts of magic and curses but Regina had realized just how deep her anger and resentment ran, and what were the chances that it would get better from there? But she needed to know, didn't she?

So Regina gathered her courage as Emma wheeled her into her room and helped her settle on her bed. How hard can it be to tell someone you are going to have their baby? Surely they were capable of handling the situation like mature adults?

"Uh, I—" Regina began, unsure of herself, and consequently irritated with herself that she was. "We need to talk."

"What's there to talk about?" Emma's voice was still gruff.

_Henry._ Regina wanted to say. _His future. Us. Your baby that I'm carrying. _Our_ baby._

But then she looked at Emma's stiff, stubborn face, and any statements she might have wanted to make clogged up in her throat, refusing to be uttered. How do you broach such things with the mother of your son? That she is the soon-to-be mother of the child magically implanted inside you the night you two had supposedly meaningless sex, about two months ago? Especially when she has recently and suddenly discovered the truth behind your carefully crafted exterior? And the very fact that Emma had decided to still stay in one room with her, to let Regina see the son who almost just died because of her, to let Regina touch him again — all those things made her want to lie low and let this haphazard peace grow between the two of them. God knew she would need it soon once the weakening curse broke.

Regina told herself it was necessary, that Emma wouldn't believe her anyway. _She_ found it hard to believe, and she had grown up with magic, spent all her life with it. Something told her that once again she had made the wrong decision, that she would regret it but Regina just kept her mouth shut and watched as Emma opened the door to leave, but then Emma turned around, chewing her lip and looked for a moment at Regina with a gaze that made her feel very uncomfortable.

"So I hear congratulations are in order," Emma said.

Regina sighed inwardly because the look on Emma's face was anything but congratulatory.

"You're having a baby," Emma went on when she got no response.

"Yes," Regina said finally.

"Well, good for you," Emma said, half-turned to leave, and then turned back.

"So whose is it?"

Regina almost winced at the crude question but she could sense the undercurrent of emotion behind it.

"It shouldn't concern you," she said, finding it a little difficult to sound the words.

"Two months, Dr. Whale said," Emma's voice was a little louder now. "Two months. Tell me, Regina, who else were you screwing when you slept with me? Were you cheating on him with me? Or was he another one-night stand?"

"Emma!"

"That was probably why you never picked it up again, where we left off, isn't it? Even though I tried. You already had someone in your life!"

"That's enough!" said Regina, realizing that perhaps the curse wasn't the only reason behind Emma's anger and resentment.

"You were already screwing someone else! Was he good, Regina? Did he satisfy you? Was he that good that you let him get you pregnant!"

"Stop it!"

"No, dammit, I really want to know—"

"There was — there is no one else."

"I don't fucking believe you! You can't deny the evidence growing in your belly—"

"There was no one."

"You're having his baby!"

"It's yours, damn you! It's your baby!"

[...]

_A/N: So. I thought Regina was a bit OOC in the whole thing, I thought she should have a bit more fight in her, but I just couldn't make that happen. When I talked to my beta, she told me off and said that Regina is supposed to be OOC — she's pregnant, she just poisoned her son and he's being taken away from her. She's hormonal, scared and rattled. It'll be OOC if she's not OOC. It did make sense, then. Sharing this because it was important for me to make this distinction, and you probably don't know why I am rambling on, so I'll shut up. Can't wait to know what you guys think of the chapter, though. xD_


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Caught Painting a Dotted Line (4/?)  
**Fandom:** Once Upon a Time  
**Pairing:** Swan Queen (Emma Swan/Regina Mills)  
**Spoiler/Warning:** Up till 1.21 – An Apple Red as Blood. Canon till 1.21 with slight AU happenings, veers off canon after 1.21.  
**Summary:** Regina is pregnant. Henry eats the turnover. And there is angst, and forgiveness is not really on the horizon right away. Or something like that. I've never written a worse summary in my life.  
**Disclaimer:** This is purely fictional. I own none of it.

[…]

_A/N: Hi you guys. The next chapter *finally*! I'm sorry I made you guys wait for so long but I believe no chapter is better than a half-hearted chapter. Also, jobs and life and stuff happened. And it took me quite some time — almost a month, really — to work out all the details, and then one day everything fell into place, and I rather like how it did. This chapter dedicated to le Wife because that day was her birthday. xD Also this chapter is much longer than my usual ones so I hope you don't get bored by the end. A big thank you to all those who've reviewed, favorited or put this story on their Story Alerts. It means a lot to me, even the anon reviews (which I can't personally reply). As always, feedback would be highly appreciated. xD_

[…]

Regina only realized what she had let slip when she saw the expression on Emma's abruptly silent face, and a feeling of horror washed over her. She closed her eyes and sighed, already wishing she could take back the words.

"_What?"_

"Nothing, Miss Swan. I think it would be best if you remove yourself from my room right now."

"Oh, no, you don't get to do that. I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me what you meant by 'my baby'… it can't be—"

"You're right," Regina cut in. "It can't be. It's not."

"Then why did you say it?"

"Oh, don't you know," Regina snapped this time. "I'm drugged — delirious, out of my mind — take your pick."

Emma glared at her, Regina glared back, not ready to give in. But Emma was at an advantage, she was standing and it was easier for her to look down.

"If you want to continue this staring contest, you better sit down. I'm getting a crick in my neck from all this looking up."

"You're lying."

"No, my neck is really beginning to hurt."

"You're lying," Emma repeated. "You're neither drugged nor delirious."

"Fine. I'm not. I just want you off my back."

"Regina!" Emma's voice was taut, running out of patience.

Regina took a deep breath and looked up at the white hospital ceiling.

"Emma, please," she said, voice lacking any bite this time. "Please, just go."

She saw the Sheriff's eyes widen a little at the sudden change. "But _how_ can this be?"

"How do you think? Magic."

"I — this is insane. You are saying that your _magic_ made this happen?"

"Well, I wasn't the only one involved — your magic had a lot to do with it."

"I — have _magic_?"

"Well, unless I'm the Virgin Mary and this is Immaculate Conception, I don't have any other explanation at all. Because I haven't been with anyone except you since Graham."

"Regina," Emma began in a reasoning tone, like she was trying to make Regina see sense. "I admit the sex was good, but I don't think it was _miraculous_ enough to make a baby — this is ridiculous!"

"Well, you better believe it because that miracle did occur!"

"Are you sure you're not just trying to pin this on me?"

"I can take a paternity — or in this case, a maternity test if that'll make you believe. You might not have faith in magic, but you have faith in science, don't you?"

"Who's to say you won't get the results faked?"

"I won't."

Emma snorted. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe!"

Regina felt anger bubble in her stomach once again. "Fine! I never asked you to believe me, anyway! In fact, if I remember correctly, I asked you to leave!"

"You can't very well make a comment like that and expect me to leave!"

"Well, why don't you tell me what kind of comment I _can_ make to make you leave?"

Emma grabbed the small rail at the end of Regina's bed and bent over it, staring at the mayor.

"Stop playing games, Regina."

"I'm not playing any games," said Regina, voice tense with anger.

"Then tell me who the father is!"

"You're so blinded by your own virtuous self-righteousness that you can't see the truth even if it's staring you right in the face!" Regina spat at her. "And you call yourself a believer! A Savior!"

Emma gripped the rail so hard, her knuckles were white, her face twisted into a snarl.

"_You_ don't get to talk about the truth!" She said, enunciating each word so hard and clearly that it was scary.

It made Regina falter for a moment but then she regrouped readily. "And what gives _you_ the right to say that?"

"Everything, oh, _everything,_ Regina, don't even get me started on that! My whole damn life so far gives me the right!" Emma's voice began to break a little. "I don't know why, I don't know what you wanted — but do you have any idea what you have done to me? Do you?" And even though she seemed to be trying very hard, there was no stopping the tears this time. "Was that the revenge you wanted? Did it make you happy, Regina? Sending a baby away into the unknown, leaving her to fend for herself in a system that — in a system—" she stopped, voice choked.

Regina looked away. "You weren't supposed to — they weren't supposed to be able to send you away! I came for you," she said, looking back at Emma, voice softening. "I _wanted_ you."

Emma let out a short, humorless laugh. "And is that supposed to make me feel better? You and everyone else were frozen in time, _I wasn't!_ You don't even know the things I went through!"

"Oh, dear, no one knows the things the other person goes through," said Regina, but her heart wasn't in it, her voice lacked conviction. It must have been the hormones because why else would she be feeling like this? Like she had done something horribly, horribly wrong, something that she could never make right no matter how hard she tried. She knew that already. It wasn't news to her, and it hadn't bothered her for years — not like this. So what was different now? Why was Emma's face making her feel like this, like her heart was breaking into tiny, tiny pieces? Why were Emma's eyes making her want to — it _must_ be the damned hormones!

Emma shook her head. "What do you get from pinning this on me, Regina? What do you _want?"_

"I don't want anything," Regina said tiredly, and in that moment she felt like the boy who had cried wolf so many times that when finally the wolf came for him, nobody listened when he called.

"Then why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's your right, you are the mother—"

"I am _not_—"

"Listen to me and tell me, you can tell, right? Tell me if you think I'm lying when I say that this baby is yours," Regina said, looking her right in the eye.

Emma glared at her for a long moment before turning around and storming out of the room.

[...]

Emma banged the door behind her on her way out. She told herself it was the fury she had felt ever since last night finally boiling over, but deep down the anger signified so much more and that made her angrier still. She stalked the length of the corridor, not even bothering to look who or what she was bumping into, too blind to see how people were jumping out of her way. Enough was fucking enough. Damn this place and Regina and the stupid curse; all she wanted was to take her son and flee, run away to some place where there'll be no curses or poisoned turnovers or magical babies — the fuck was Regina thinking! As far as power plays went, this one was pretty lame. It was a well-known and given fact that she wasn't an emotional person, and her maternal instincts were pretty stunted — did Regina think she would pass off her pregnancy as magical and Emma would forget everything, fall at her feet, and fawn over her growing belly and whatever _thing_ was in there? No effing thank you. She was barely learning to be the mother of a ten-year-old, she could not handle a baby right now — especially if that baby belonged to Regina.

She pushed the door with much greater force than necessary, only to find the huge, panicked eyes of the above mentioned ten-year-old staring at her, and all the anger inside her drained suddenly and abruptly, making her feel empty and strangely bare. But then the relief on seeing him awake, alive, all right filled her chest with lightness.

"Hey, kid," she smiled to let him know that it was okay and then walked forward to sit beside him on his bed and pushed back his hair from his face. "How're you feeling? Did you sleep well? You didn't have bad dreams, did you? Are you hungry?"

The barrage of questions made him laugh, and Emma smiled. "I'm okay," he said. "I feel fine, and I'm very hungry!"

"Good," Emma said. "That's good."

He smiled at her and then, "Emma — how's the — my mom?"

"She's—" Emma started and sighed. _Infuriating, insane, unbelievable, evil, absolutely fucking crazy._ "She's all right now. She even came to see you here," she said before she could stop herself.

"She did?" Henry's eyes were huge. "Can we go see her? I mean," he said, looking at her thunderous expression. "You're taking me with you, right? So I'll say goodbye?"

"Yeah, okay," Emma said defeatedly. "I promised her I would, anyway."

He leaned back into the pillow, looking relieved, like he had been ready to fight his point and Emma wondered if he actually would have.

"Emma," he said again after a while, expression very serious. "What's wrong with her?"

"I — well — she—" Emma floundered.

"Is it magic?" he asked earnestly, and Emma looked at him, amazed at this kid's ability to believe in wondrous and impossible things.

"Is it because of me, because you woke me up? Is she going to die?"

Okay, not so much amazing, maybe.

"No, of course not! And it's not magi — I mean — well," Emma hoped Regina had already had the whole 'birds and bees' talk with him cause this was proving to be difficult to articulate. "She is — that is —" In the end she settled for, "You are going to have a little sister — or brother, maybe." And wondered why she had said that, because hadn't she just taken him back from Regina? And any children she now had were none of their — Henry and Emma's — concern, right? But she watched as her son's face lit up like a Christmas light.

"She is going to have a baby?"

"Yeah, kid, she is," Emma said, wondering why hadn't _she_ said that instead of bringing in all that sentimentality.

"That's _awesome!"_ he said.

"Really, kid?" Emma barely managed to not roll her eyes or sigh as he nodded vigorously.

"I've always wanted a little sister! Or brother!"

And Emma understood the childish need for companionship, she did — hadn't she gone through the same thing for _years_ before she totally gave up on it? — but her son couldn't have chosen a worse time to express it. Regina's words were still fresh in her mind, and so was their argument; it was right there at the back of her mouth like the bitter taste of bile, so she toned down another sigh and mussed up his already untidy hair.

"Hold down a bit on the enthusiasm, kid, okay?"

His face fell and she felt bad, but then he nodded like he understood.

"She's still the Evil Queen, isn't she?" And then he suddenly sat up straighter. "You don't think the baby will be evil, too, Emma? Like — like Chucky?"

Emma's heart sank suddenly down to somewhere around her navel, and really, she shouldn't care — Regina and her Evil Spawn can do whatever they want, right? But Henry looked so wide-eyed and worried that she couldn't stop herself from reassuring him.

"That's ridiculous, Henry! I mean — she brought you up and you aren't evil."

"But I was adopted. I was the Savior's son!"

"Really, kid, you weren't with me for ten minutes before they took you away. She was with you for ten years." He nodded, looking relieved. "And where even — how do you know about Chucky? I don't believe Regina would've let you watch it!"

"No, I read about it."

"You read a lot of nonsense, kid," Emma tried to sound stern and failed miserably. "And, anyway," she suddenly frowned, "Chucky was a doll, wasn't he?"

"All the same," Henry dismissed it. "Small and evil."

"Enough," Emma smacked him lightly on the arm, and then immediately soothed the sting with a caress. "No more talk about evil babies, okay?"

Henry relented. "So when can we go?"

"Well, as soon as Dr. Whale checks you and pronounces you fit, we'll pack your stuff here and be off to Mary Margaret's—"

"No, when can we go see my mom?"

This time Emma couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. "I — we'll go see her right before we go home. Now, sit here and I'll see about some breakfast and then work on getting you home, okay?"

The rest of the morning went smoothly enough. Henry ate like he had been starving for the past week, and Dr. Whale pronounced him well and fit to go home, effective immediately.

The first setback came when she was packing his stuff: it was pitifully little, and Emma realized that she would have to talk to Regina about getting Henry's things from his room unless she bought everything new — which just wasn't practical. Still, anything that involved talking to Regina left a bitter taste in her mouth, and for a moment she was strongly tempted to _actually_ buy everything new. But the idea was discarded as quickly as it was considered, because she didn't even know the things a ten-year-old needed. And not that she didn't trust Henry, but no respectable ten-year-old doesn't lie to their parents to wheedle out a few extra advantages, and Emma was already operating at a handicapped position here, she did not want to make it worse.

The prospect further dampened her desire to talk to, or even see Regina, and it was with a lot of trepidation that she made her way to Regina's room, Henry's backpack on her shoulder, and his small, clammy hand holding her's in a painfully tight grip.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," he said, voicing her thoughts. "Maybe we shouldn't."

Emma looked down at him and sighed. "Don't go all cold feet on me now, kid. You wanted to go."

"But she's the Evil Queen!"

"Well, I promised the _Evil Queen_ I'd bring you over. And good guys keep their promises, don't they?"

"Are you sure she isn't angry with you?" He asked.

"Well, yes, but what if she is? What does it matter?"

"I just don't want her hurling fireballs at you."

Emma wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but the possibility was too real to be actually funny so she just managed a half-hearted chuckle.

"Well, I'll take it when it comes," she told him. "Though I don't think she can do magic here. And I don't think she will, even if she could. Not in front of you, at least. Now buck up, okay?"

But Henry did not look much comforted or bucked up at all when she pushed open Regina's door and found her in a heated argument with Dr. Whale. They both paused upon seeing Emma and Henry, and then Regina waved a vague hand at the doctor.

"We'll resume this later, Doctor. I have visitors." She dismissed Dr. Whale, her tone brooking no argument.

"_Madam_ Mayor," Dr. Whale began, his tone angry.

"This discussion is over for now, Dr. Whale," Regina glared at him, every inch the queen on that sterilized hospital bed, in that ridiculous hospital gown.

"Fine!" He almost snapped at her. "I'll wait outside. Don't think you're getting out of it!"

Regina waited until he had left, and the door was closed behind his back before turning and smiling at Henry — the smile that transformed her face every time, lending it a deceptive softness.

"Henry," she said simply, and the word held everything she wanted to say, everything she had to offer — love, care, affection, fear, pain, regret, heartache, a silent plea for forgiveness.

Emma nudged him forward but he stood rooted to his spot beside her, suddenly reticent, so she frog-marched him up to Regina's side and he looked up at her with wide eyes.

"Behave," Emma mouthed at him.

But in the end, you had to give the kid credit because he stood stoically by Regina's bedside and did not flinch when she reached out with a hesitant hand to touch him. Emma could tell she wanted to hug him, to hold him close, and despite her better judgment, she pushed him those few inches forward, right within Regina's reach, and when Regina hugged him, his arms went around her on their own and he hung on tightly, the trepidation of moments ago forgotten.

It was a little painful to watch how completely Regina broke down, then — because whatever the truth may be, Emma had established a long time ago that the love Regina held for Henry was as real and vast, as concrete as the Earth itself.

The first sob broke through, then a second and a third, and then they kept coming until Henry's whole body was shaking from the force of Regina's sobs. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and again in between them. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, baby, my baby, I'm sorry." Her hands clutched him tightly to her and her lips landed light and slightly frantic kisses all over his head.

And despite the fact that she knew the truth now, Emma found it gratifying to watch Henry burrow deeper into the woman, hold on tighter to her hospital gown as she broke down. In the end it was his hands that wiped her tears and stilled her sobs. But he also didn't tell her that it was okay, because it really wasn't; it was the furthest from okay that things could've been. But for those few minutes, the three of them let it slide. For those few minutes it was almost like — _home._ A little boy between his two mothers, a family.

...

"Emma's taking me home," he told her hesitantly when she finally held him away from herself to look at him, stray tears still leaking out the corners of her eyes.

She nodded at him. "I know," she said, combing back his hair with her fingers, and Emma was a little startled by the lack of any malice or resentment in her voice; there was only sadness, and a quiet determination. It was hard to believe she was letting go so easily, even harder to reconcile this with the woman Emma knew her to be. "She'll take care of you. It's — better this way, you'll be safe, and you'll be with all the —" her voice choked up again. "The good people. You'll be happy, yes, you'll see," she said, like she was telling herself more than him. "You'll be happy."

She took a deep breath, trying to piece herself together. "Now," she took a hold of his chin. "You'll be a good boy, and behave around Emma and everyone else, all right?"

He nodded in reply.

"And remember to brush your teeth every night, and don't forget to wash behind your ears, okay? And make Emma or Miss Blanchard recheck your homework — especially maths — every day. Don't eat too many sweets, and — and—"

She faltered as another teary deluge overcame her.

"He needs a nightlight," she said to Emma. "And sometimes he falls asleep while reading, leaving his flashlight on and it gives him a headache in the morning. You'll have to be careful about that, Henry, okay?" She turned her eyes towards him again. "Just — just remember that I love you, and whatever you think of me, just take care of yourself, all right? For me. Please? Promise me?"

His only response to that was a strange sob-like sound as he hurled himself at her to bury his head in her chest again and she held him close, rubbing soothing circles on his back, whispering, "It will be okay, you'll see. It's okay."

In that moment Emma realized just how much Henry actually needed Regina in his life. She had been a constant for ten years — as long as he'd been alive — and Emma could not imagine what it would do to him, such a huge and sudden change, even if it was one he had been craving for months. He didn't know how to live his life without his mom — Evil Queen or not — and Emma was sure he didn't even realize how much of a difference it would make to him, not having Regina there. Emma sighed. It was going to be more difficult than she had imagined.

He finally let go of Regina to look at her as she held his hands in hers.

"Emma says you're going to have a baby?" He asked her.

Regina looked at her reproachfully, "You told him."

"He was worried you were gonna die of some magical cancer or something because of him, I had to tell him," Emma said. "And anyway, he's a smart kid. He'd have figured it out eventually."

Regina dismissed her explanation with a look so eloquent and so reminiscent of the mayor that Emma almost smiled for a moment, before she turned her attention back to Henry, dark eyes softening instantly. "Yes," she told him, holding his hands in both of hers. "I'm having a baby."

"But you're okay, right?" He insisted. "I mean — there was so much blood!" His face paled at the memory, and this time Regina's glare made Emma flinch.

"You let him see me like that?"

"I tried to stop him," Emma said defensively. "And it couldn't be helped, it's not like you extended us the courtesy of passing out in a pool of blood somewhere other than his room!"

"Oh, forgive me for losing consciousness and almost dying by my near-death son's bedside!" Regina snapped at her. "Miss Swan, if that's the finest display of parenting you can show—"

"Oh, cut the crap, Regina, okay! I did not come here for a lecture on parenting. I'm not the one who just almost killed my son!" She hadn't really intended to say that, and she regretted the words when she saw the color drain from Regina's cheeks, but it was too late to take them back, and anger still burned in her heart, so she went on. "I brought Henry to see you as promised and that's done, so we'll be going now."

She reached out to take Henry's hand and Regina's arms tightened around him reflexively, and Emma could see she was very close to pleading.

"I — just —"

But it was Henry who stopped her. "I'll come see you again, and the baby," he told her, causing her to tear up once more. Emma allowed her a final hug and a kiss before snatching Henry away and marching him out of the room, anger making her stride fast until she realized Henry was almost running to keep up with her, and slowed down.

"They're going to be okay, right, Emma?" The fear in his voice made her stop and look down at him. It seemed kind of weird to hear Regina talked about as 'they', and it also amazed her a little, his capability to care.

"Of course, she's — they're going to be okay, that's one strong baby, even Dr. Whale said that!" And when he continued to look worried, she draped an arm across his shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "Also, we're gonna keep checking on them, okay? C'mon, now, let's get going. Mary Margaret's made all your favorite things!"

"She's your mom, you know," he said as they started walking again.

"Oh, Henry. Can we do this some other time, please? One step at a time, kid, okay? And that one's a bit too big to take right now."

"I had no problem with you being my mother," he pointed out. And Emma wanted to say that _he_ wasn't abandoned and left to fend for himself by the road — or amongst redwood trees, if August was to be believed — or had to spend eighteen years being rejected, traded, crushed in the foster system, or had run-ins with cheating little bastards at an age when the world was an alien and scary place, and the first bit of faux-comfort meant so much, or had a baby in the jail because of that, or spent the next ten years living the life of a restless nomad, too afraid to lay down roots, too afraid to get attached, to love. But then she looked at his guileless face and wide, innocent eyes, and decided that there was still time for him to learn _that_ lesson later, hopefully much later, preferably never; he didn't need to know it all yet. So she just shook her head.

"You're a _superkid,_ Henry, that's why. Me, I got issues, and — oh, shi — shu — shoot!" Emma remembered something that made her stop in her tracks and smack herself on the forehead.

"What happened? And I know all the swear words so you don't need to censor them."

Emma gave him a hard look at that. "We're discussing that later. I forgot to ask Regina about your stuff — listen, kid," she handed him her keys. "Go sit in the Bug, okay? I'll be right there — no, don't worry, I won't let her burn me to a crisp, okay?"

She watched him go, a tiny figure in a crowd of people, until he passed out of the doors of the hospital, and then she took a deep breath and turned around to go talk to Regina.

This time when she reached Regina's room, the door was ajar and loud, angry voices could be heard right outside and Emma came to a sudden stop as she heard — Regina and Dr. Whale! What was his deal, anyway, Emma wondered. Why was he — oh, God, he couldn't be — could he? She leaned forward to listen despite herself.

"—I am the _mayor!"_ came Regina's disdainful voice.

"I don't care if you are the President!" Dr. Whale said. "I cannot allow you to do this to the baby, or yourself."

"What does it matter to you?"

"It matters, because I'm a healer! I cannot condone when someone willingly opts for suicide, especially when another life is—"

"Oh, please, spare me the clichéd platitudes!"

"Clichéd or not — you're not getting out of this hospital in this condition. Absolutely not!"

"You cannot order me around!"

"Of course I can, and you _will_ listen to me if you want to keep this baby and preserve your health."

"I will sue you!" Regina raged. "You cannot force me—"

"I can — I will. I can give an opinion regarding the state of your mental health as your doctor—"

"You wouldn't _dare!"_

"I would if it means saving lives, I would." His tone was resigned.

"You have to let me go home, I cannot stay here!"

"You have three choices, Madam Mayor. Either contact the father of the child and call him here so that I can be sure you are taken care of."

Wait — so he wasn't! Emma breathed in sharply.

"Contacting the — other parent is not an option," Regina's voice lost some of its fierceness.

Emma noticed how she didn't say 'father'.

"Well, then, call another person here, who I can be sure will be with you, taking care of you through the rest of your term. It is imperative."

"I — _cannot!"_ Regina said.

"There must be someone you can call."

"There is no one, why is it so hard to believe?"

"Everyone has someone—"

"Obviously not, or we wouldn't be having this pathetic discussion!"

"Then I cannot let you go home by yourself. You have to stay here for the next seven months."

"I'm the mayor — I cannot—"

"You are also pregnant — take a leave of absence!"

"And the town would run itself, would it?"

"The town can wait, the town is not having a baby!"

"It cannot — let's just end this ridiculousness, you prescribe me whatever vitamins are required, and I'll take care of myself, Dr. Whale."

"With all due respect, Madam Mayor, you cannot even go to the loo by yourself."

"I can so go—" Regina began hotly but stopped herself.

Dr. Whale went on, his tone heated. "I leave you alone for a moment, and you go off running in corridors! Nurse Hanson was worried out of her mind."

"Well, she did not look particularly bothered when I left," Regina bit back. "In fact, if I remember correctly, she was snoozing happily at—"

The doctor cut in. "Madam Mayor, let us not make this about Nurse Hanson's slumbering habits or work efficacy, shall we? The fact remains that despite my express instructions, you not only ripped off your IV and monitoring devices, but disregarding any measures for the safety of your baby and yourself, you chose to leave this room—"

"My son—"

He overrode her.

"—_despite_ the fact that I had reassured you that he was fine, and given my word that I would bring him to see you when he woke up!" He sounded like he was presenting his case in front of a jury. "Jeopardizing your health and the baby's life!"

"I—"

"Let me tell you, Madam Mayor — and I say this with utmost certainty — that this time in case of any unfortunate incident, if anything were to happen, the chances of your survival are grim, but the chances of your baby's survival are non-existent, however strong it maybe. I cannot trust you to keep your word after the stunt you just pulled, I cannot allow you to kill yourself."

"This discussion isn't going anywhere," Regina said tiredly, and sighed.

"No, it isn't, now I suggest you make that call — to the father or another concerned person."

"I can't do that!"

"Swallow your pride—"

"There isn't anyone," Regina seemed frustrated to the point of tears. "And Em — and the other parent won't — why can't you just let me be? I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"Yes, you do, so either you call someone, or let us do our job!"

Emma didn't know what made her do it but she stepped into the room, Henry's backpack held in front of her like a shield, and in that moment she understood a little of how Frodo must have felt when he offered to take the ring.

"I'll do it," she said loudly, too loud, making the discussion in front of her stop, making Regina and Dr. Whale stare at her.

"I'll take care of her," Emma found herself saying, and could not find a reason why she was.

_**~fin~**_

_A/N: Also, I'm sorry about the promised angst, I see this is going somewhere a little bit different than I had thought initially. It's just that every time I start writing pregnant!Regina, my mind goes into fluff overdrive — literally. I cannot help it. I want a SQ baby so bad, it's mildly disgusting and decidedly creepy. I would give my right leg for it. Okay, maybe not my right leg, but a pinky toe, for sure. I'm not overly fond of my pinky toes, anyway. All they do is stick out and get stubbed. :/_

_Regina's scene with Henry was my favorite to write so far, and also the most complex, because their emotions for each other are so complicated. Anyway, h__opefully the next chapter will finally get them out of the hospital, but can't say where it's gonna lead them. :P Can't wait to hear what you guys think of this one xD_


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